Kindred
by PurpleYin
Summary: Lincoln keeps intending to put a stop to it. alt!Lincoln/Lincoln alt!Lincoln/Lincoln/alt!Olivia


**Spoilers:** Up to 4x20.

**A/N:** Written for ThatwasJustaDream as part of Fringe-Exchange 2014.

Let's pretend 4x17 had a happy ending, in addition to the events of 4x20. Also, note that this is from amber!Lincoln's perspective, who is Lincoln in this, where as red!Lincoln he is referring to as Lee (and Liv calls Linc), just to clear up who is who because part of this pairing gets very hard to separate with two guys with the same name...

* * *

><p>There's a glint in the man's eyes that Lincoln has never seen before; a rawness, though his expression remains closed off, even as the distance between them physically lessens until he can feel his double's hot breath on his cheek. Unnerved at the sudden proximity he blinks fast at first, settling back into a normal rhythm when he adjusts his focus by peering over and around his glasses. He finds his gaze darting about - from Lee's bright eyes to his lips and then to the side - trying to figure out where he should be looking. He thinks he ought to turn away, excuse himself but surprisingly he doesn't want to. His breathing is getting towards ragged as Lee leans in further, his nervous system's response inspired by a mix of fear of the unknown and an almost equal excitement at it.<p>

Warm lips meet his and there's a passion to Lee's kisses, although somehow it doesn't seem entirely like it's for him. His hands drag at clothes and stroke muscles underneath but he doesn't feel seen with Lee's eyes screwed shut tight. Their attentions grow urgent but it's hard for him to be sure whether the touch is desiring the shape he discovers or not. Fingers tease his hair as if to reset it into a style that fits another dream. Lincoln knows Lee has a fever for _her_ that eats him up, that has consumed far more of his heart than Lincoln can know, though he can still imagine the effect from how much of a mark she has made in the short time of his knowing either version of Olivia himself. That desire hasn't however stopped Lee from initiating whatever they are probably unwisely playing with here and Lincoln decides for once Lee will be deemed _not hers_ , if only briefly. He intends to reclaim Lincoln Lee, pulling him out of his troubled head for a while and towards living in the moment, something Lincoln is starting to appreciate a whole lot more after experiencing life over here up close and personally in danger so frequently. He's not sure if he has a true place in this world and neither does he know what it means to Lee to be displaced in one of the arena's of such importance in his life; his insertion into a world he doesn't belong to has upset the natural order for everyone. Tonight at least, both of them can be lost souls together.

–

It isn't how Lincoln expected, which shouldn't surprise him when none of what his life currently is was expected. Every day Lee doesn't say a word to stop her from reaching out to his alternate, to persuade her he's the better option, but Lee all too often dives into the comfort of his double's body. Lincoln is her proxy and Lee is using up himself in a crazy coping mechanism he can no longer deny temptation of. There's no one else quite like Liv, but there's a strange form of self-solace to this having another version of himself instead, someone who understands and accepts what is going on.

Lincoln keeps intending to put a stop to it, to avoid any chance of it happening again but the job requires decompression from its horrors and frequenting a bar with fellow agents isn't uncommon. Liv always cops off early, growing bored of more than a couple of sodas, an action that more often than not leaves him alone with their Captain. The problem is having a few drinks under his belt has him reaching very literally for a release and stumbling back to an apartment he's getting to know better than his own temporary residence.

It's wrong because he knows this skin too well – it's not the exploration it would be were he an entirely other man. Lee's hands travel over old paths, an achingly familiar reach to drive them both wild in an escalation that certainly goes somewhere and yet Lincoln suspects those caresses never reach Lee's intended destination, searching for something else he can't have.

It's wrong because he is all over himself, inside himself, distinctly not pressing into her heat like he knows he wants. Like they both want, but maybe that's part of why this works. They know who they're thinking of other than themselves and there's no kidding each other.

It isn't how Lincoln expected at all. The pace _isn't_ fast, but Lee's ownership of his body is unrelenting, pushing him past his limits until he is pleading for a conclusion. Honestly, it's the best he's ever had, leaving him wanting. He doesn't know what to think of the desire left hanging that first time; still, back he comes.

It's _wrong_ , Lincoln knows as the guilt settles in his stomach each morning after. He smiles at Liv in greeting at work, hoping she won't notice the tightness of it belaying his unease and avoids facing Lee for a good chunk of the day, hiding behind cups of tea and paperwork, virtual as it may be, that neither partner complains if he wants to single-handedly polish off.

What's more wrong is to give in time after time with decreasing resistance, like this is an acceptable inevitability for them. The hot promise of Lee's leering made him uncomfortable before, but now it feels freeing, lifting a new burden from his heart. Lee has seen the looks, the touches that flow easily from Liv to him – everything Lee wanted diverted, a displaced destiny. He isn't sure that's right either so Lincoln lets him take a subtle revenge against him in teasing nearly pathetic pleas from his mouth and claiming each night they continue this as purely his.

-

It's worse than he expected too. The memory of Lee's demanding lips lingers as he gets to kiss her goodnight for the first time and he doesn't know how to explain what feels like a hole in his chest at doing so, because he has this and Lee does not. They're not the same, not really, but they're spun from the same cloth. He draws up everything he feels for Liv already and when he imagines the multiplication of that by days, weeks, months, years, it chokes him. He wants to ask 'Why me and not him?' but it wouldn't be fair to question her feelings. This is simply how it is.

Except, now, in the back of his mind, there's a cocky voice of the person he could be, asking 'Why not both of us?'.

Lincoln doesn't ask anything in the end, but breaks off from the virtually chaste peck she's gifted him because of his lack of response and makes his excuses. He's tired, not sleeping well, not used to the caseload; nothing is said that isn't true. He'd ignore it all for her, if he could get the doubt out of his mind about who he is here and who he wants to be. He doesn't feel like he's the person she deserves, not with what he's been doing in the dark of night with her friend. So he sits in his hotel room, knocking back whiskey like another partner of his in another world and contemplates how he's unlucky enough to love her in every universe when the same is not true in reverse.

-

"Hi."

"Hey," Lee says, eyes wary, door part open, a welcome not yet extended to him.

"She kissed me," he confesses, like that one event is an invitation to finally talk about the thing they've been studiously ignoring when together.

Lee opens the door, letting Lincoln stroll in casually, but already turns away from him so that his reaction is impossible to gauge. The latch clicks closed on the door behind him with Lee's hand quick to seclude them inside and there is a shift in his whole world as Lee turns back to him, chasing her touch on his lips, adding to the mix their now normal but likely unhealthy amount of groping considering they're more like twins than anything else. Of course neither of them is recognizing that properly since society never accounted for this possibility and it's far past mattering; weirder things _have_ happened.

He breaks the kiss off, with difficulty as Lee's not only forceful but thoroughly convincing with his tongue too, eliciting a remorseful moan at the self-denial of the contact.

"Call her," he prompts.

"And say what?" Lee demands, pacing across the room, coming to settle on his couch with arms crossed and head tilted back defiant of what is being suggested, "Want to come hang out and watch your new boyfriend make out with your best friend? If you think that's really gonna work you don't know Liv that well." Don't deserve her is the implication too.

Lincoln sighs, decides he's not taking anymore of Lee's tortured crap. It's been rubbing off on him and he doesn't need any of this added drama on top of moving universes. All his, admittedly drunken, pondering has brought him to the conclusion what they need to eke out is, if not a solution from this interpersonal mess, then at least get the truth of it in the open.

"Neither do you, not like that."

At that unpleasant reminder, Lee shies away from his scrutinizing look.

"I hope you can handle the idea of her knowing. Because I already told her to meet me here, to tell her about..." he swallows here, courage flagging but admitting it _is_ right, "About us."  
>Lee's eyes burn into his with annoyance but he doesn't demand he cancel the encounter. He's as invested in the outcome as he can be – neither of them has been able to stop the casual arrangement they'd fallen into and they need to know where to go from here, whether Liv can deal with it.<p>

Lincoln stands by the door, leans against the wall Lee had been pressing him up against only minutes ago and tries to block out thoughts of what he'd interrupted, what might never happen again. If this goes badly there's no chance he's still getting laid tonight, but the result, knowing where they all stand, is much more important than some quick fling no matter how good it is.

There's a knock eventually, Lincoln swinging round to open the door, his clumsiness at fiddling with mechanisms he finds unfamiliar delaying. Liv smiles at him with a hint of confusion looks like she might be about to try kissing him again in greeting but thinks better of it as she spots Lee in the background. At a glance to Lee, Lincoln sees he's staring resolutely out of his window like he wants to be anywhere but in a room with them of all people.

"What's up?" She asks like she already knows something is wrong. Her tone is light and the phrase is said uncharacteristically gently, the same manner one would use if trying not to startle a scared animal. He realises he must look worse than he feels. Which was pretty bad to start with and not improving considering the several drinks hitting him.

"We need to talk," he means it to be a request but finds it coming out commandingly.

"All of us," he clarifies as he walks over to Lee, intending to draw his presence back to mind and into the conversation he very much needs to be part of too. Lee still doesn't look towards them as Lincoln stands at the end of the couch, as close as he dares at the moment but he is enticed to speak, an angry drawl springing forth.

"I'm not the one involved in a badly concealed mating dance around the bullpen."

Lincoln feels his hackles rise at Lee's intent to deftly deflect away from his involvement in the situation they're in and lashes back instinctively. "No. _Your_ moves are expertly concealed, especially from Olivia."

For several seconds Lee glares at him and he returns it full force, mentally willing him to rashly reply in return and crack that can of worms that is long overdue opening. Unfortunately Liv interrupts, voice tinged with equal measure of concern and frustration, "Someone clue me in here,"

Lee clams up and turns back to the window, leaving Lincoln to go for it. "He's jealous, of you and I."

"Oh."

The word would indicate surprise but she says it in a way that indicates she's not really that shocked. Lincoln supposes anyone who'd take a minute to think about could see Lee had a thing for her and Liv isn't dumb, just possibly prone to treating that with wilful obliviousness in order to avoid it all the longer.

By the fact she doesn't ask the question 'Possessive of who?' he knows she assumes it is jealousy of Lincoln with her. He'd assumed it was only that at first, now he's not certain given with the tangle of thoughts in his head. Distinguishing who for and what he feels is hard enough, though he doesn't know what Lee is feeling thesedays either, if his original assumptions for why they'd been together have proved to be incorrect or incomplete. Maybe, he thinks as he watches Lee stare at the floor attempting to look impassive, it wasn't ever only just about her. Lincoln drags a weary hand over his face and moves to sit next to Lee, not knowing what to say next when only half of what needs to be confessed is out there. He opts for simply draping an arm over Lee, offering comfort, cautious at first but relaxing as the man leans into it and rests his head on his shoulder, practically hiding his face in the crook of Lincoln's neck.

"You guys have a thing together?" This she says with surprise. Cooly asked, a level of detachment to the question but disbelief and curiosity creeping in.

"I didn't plan for it. It sort of happened, cold comfort I know."

"Hey, I've got no claims," she says, motioning with her hands to indicate how she has no hold on him. He can see the sadness as she insists it, his crushing her hopes by the admission, not that it has to be like that. Liv starts pacing the room as she processes the new information.

"If there's something between the two of you then why am I here?"

Lee pipes up, voice inordinately low as if it takes a lot out of him to speak at all. "I'm not jealous of you. Well, that's a lie, more than a bit yeah, but that's not all Clark Kent over there is trying to get at."

"Ah," she exclaims softly. Liv really does look surprised this time and further confused. He can't say this was a situation he'd ever imagined they could get into when he'd made the decision to live here and he doubts it had crossed her mind either, that she could end up loved by two versions of the same person with their own unique bond that defied logic.

Lee gets up, avoiding looking at anyone and after a few moments of silence there's the sound of the refrigerator opening and the hiss of an bottle cap removed. Lee hangs in the kitchen doorway, facing away from them as he gulps down most of the beer in one. Liv taking action, goes to him, though she merely hovers close, allowing space where he might prefer.

"You're my friend, why didn't you say something?"

There's a huff of amusement from Lee, before he takes a swig, "I didn't say anything because you're my friend. Didn't want to make things awkward. It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters, Linc."

Lincoln spies fear on Lee's face as he expects rejection but Liv hugs him tightly, and he can see Lee relax into it once he realises she isn't going to begrudge him his feelings for her. Lincoln feels morose in an instant, hit with the sense he's the intruder in their lives again and he can't get out of there quick enough. Playing up his whiskey binge as having hit him hard enough to warrant immediate rest, and waving away their concern, he makes a thankfully swift exit, leaving them be. Tapping off his earpiece as he flees in a cab outside, he rides back to his hotel in silence. He could have told them how he felt, talked it out, but he can't bear hearing any explanations to prove him wrong because he knows it's an irrational feeling anyway, one that will pass naturally, it always does. He belongs here now, even if he doesn't yet know who he belongs with.

-

Work is as awkward as could be expected the next day, with one difference. He greets Liv as normally as possible but doesn't ignore Lee like usual, who eyes him bemusedly when he tries to offer a small wry smile. It's a start to mending what's been broken too long around here. He catches Liv watching him and Lee every now and then, gaze piercing like she's studying them, keen to figure out what this is. Lincoln doesn't know himself and focuses on getting through this day alive.

A whole week passes, day in and day out with nothing else said, and they find themselves kicking back on Friday evening in a bar, comradeship over a particularly tough case solved setting their team at ease despite the ever present tensions. It hits 10pm and Liv is still there, nursing what must be her 7th soda and Lincoln had been so at ease somehow he'd not noticed the significance of her staying behind. The air between them feels changed somehow, an absence of the red flags put up by his brain and he thinks it's possible only he has been projecting those onto every interaction. Are they just gone after a few drinks because it wasn't ultimately there past that initial burst?

Liv's smiling brightly at both of them now and he feels Lee's arm slung casually around his shoulders, simple but delightful to have there. He feels at home here for the first time, amongst them, his partners. He isn't sure how he means it and he doesn't care at that precise moment, he enjoys it instead of over analyzing it to death like he tends to. Maybe that's how he should be able to tell he's truly happy for once.

He wants to trust his gut because he thinks it's possible it was meant to be, them three. It's all too easy to believe that when Liv asks them over for a movie night the next day and he can see the look of anticipation in her eyes, not to mention Lee's. He agrees with a grin and a toast to partnership that they all raise their glasses to. What will be will be and he drinks deep to that.


End file.
